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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26981269">Interlude</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugoata/pseuds/pugoata'>pugoata</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Banshee [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/F, Family, Fluff, there is a bumbleby baby in this fic!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:16:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26981269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugoata/pseuds/pugoata</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Banshees sing for change. That's what Blake likes to say, anyway. Still, Raven is too haunted by her own past to believe those words. As a banshee, death is all she knows, and for over a decade, it's been the only reason she ever sings. That's why, when she sings on the night Yang gives birth, Raven only feels fear.</p>
<p>But sometimes, fear is misplaced. Maybe Blake had it right all along.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, past poly-STR</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Banshee [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>352</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Interlude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyteea/gifts">sunnyteea</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a birthday present for my sister, <a href="https://sunnyteea.tumblr.com/">sunnyteea</a>! Happy birthday, jerk!! Now drink your Raven juice.</p>
<p>Also, this fic is a sequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23571262/chapters/56550922">Banshee</a>. If you haven't read that, you may not understand all the references in this fic, so I <em>strongly</em> urge you to do so!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a long time since Blake had last been woken up by a song.</p>
<p>Slowly, her eyes cracked open, and she frowned in confusion. Yang was still napping beside her, curled onto her side, Blake’s arm wrapped loosely around her stomach. She wasn’t even stirring, let alone singing. But the way the song echoed in through the windows meant that <em>something</em> was happening.</p>
<p>There was another banshee out there somewhere.</p>
<p>Blake carefully dislodged herself from Yang’s back. It was a reversal of how they had always slept before, but with the size of Yang’s stomach, the switch had been necessary. It was only a tiny adjustment, though, compared to what was to come, and in this case, it worked in Blake’s favor. It left Yang undisturbed, and she only let out a light sigh when Blake got up. </p>
<p>She’d need all the rest she could get, Weiss had warned them. Yang’s contractions had begun in the early hours of the morning, and though they’d been mild to start, they’d gotten progressively worse as the hours dragged on through the afternoon. Yang hadn’t been convinced she’d be able to rest at all, but a couple hours before, she’d finally dozed off. Blake wasn’t about to ruin that now.</p>
<p>Puzzled, Blake pushed open the window a little further, squinting as the last rays of the setting sun peeked through the curtain. The window had been cracked open a little for Yang’s benefit, and though the crisp winter breeze woke Blake up a little more, it wasn’t the wind that made goosebumps run down her neck. </p>
<p>Something about the singer’s voice seemed so familiar.</p>
<p>“That’s Raven,” a sleepy voice mumbled.</p>
<p>Blake turned around, wincing. Yang pushed herself up in bed a little bit, blinking blearily. </p>
<p>“Did I wake you up, mo shíorghrá?” Blake asked softly, padding back over to the bed and sitting back down beside Yang.</p>
<p>“No,” Yang replied, sighing, setting a hand onto her swollen stomach. “It wasn’t you.”</p>
<p>“How’re you feeling?” Blake asked, rubbing her back, Raven’s song all but forgotten. “Should I get Weiss and Ruby?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think so?” Yang replied, though she sounded unconvinced, her face in a grimace. She leaned against Blake, blowing out a long exhale.</p>
<p>Blake hated that there was nothing else she could do. She hated seeing Yang in pain, especially knowing it would get worse before it got better. <em>Especially</em> knowing that there was nothing she could do about it. She hadn’t expected to feel even half as helpless, or half as scared. She <em>knew</em> it would all be okay-- she’d seen the visions, after all-- but some instinctive part of her seemed to latch onto the fear: maybe her visions <em>had</em> been wrong, or maybe something would happen that she hadn’t seen. But all she could do for now was to keep rubbing Yang’s back, and murmur soft words of comfort as she rode out the contraction.</p>
<p>All the while, the slow, haunting melody of Raven’s song was carried along by the chill evening air, wafting into the room and wrapping itself around them.</p>
<p>Finally, Yang blew out a long, clean breath. She slumped against Blake, and buried her face in her shoulder. Blake ran her fingers through Yang’s hair, feeling the dampness of sweat at her temples.</p>
<p>“So much for sleep, huh?” Yang asked after a moment, only the faintest trace of humor in her voice. Blake smiled weakly.</p>
<p>“I think we might not be getting much of that for a while after this,” she said, and Yang let out a tired huff of attempted laughter.</p>
<p>“True.” She felt Yang’s face shift toward the open window; in this brief respite, she seemed ready to give into her curiosity. She tilted her head back, seeming to bask in the dying sunlight. <em>Listening</em>. Then, slowly, she shook her head. “I’m surprised she’s here.”</p>
<p>“Raven?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Yang winced a little as she sat up a little more in bed, eyes glued to the window. “I wonder what she’s singing for.”</p>
<p>“You don’t know?” Blake asked, surprised. Yang shrugged.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t feel like there’s a death in the valley,” she said slowly. “But that could be the thing Raven was talking about the last time she was here. About the songs feeling less intense.”</p>
<p>Even after Raven had settled back in at Patch, her relationship to Yang was still strained. They were cordial now, in Raven’s rare visits to Cnoc na Bumbóg, but Blake doubted that the two would ever be close. In fact, the only time this past year that Raven had visited at all had been just months before, when she’d answered some questions about pregnancy and childbirth. It had been then that she’d matter-of-factly told them that there was some primal instinct that dampened a banshee’s need to sing during pregnancy. </p>
<p>It had explained Yang’s lack of song over the past months, but it also made the song they heard now even more eerie.</p>
<p>“You don’t think it’s…?” Yang asked, her voice trailing off. The hand she was resting on her stomach tightened, and Blake shook her head quickly.</p>
<p>“No,” she said firmly. “It’s not you <em>or</em> the baby. I’ve seen the visions, remember?” She forced a smile. “Perks of being married to a seer, right?”</p>
<p>“Right.” Yang still looked worried, but nodded anyway. She craned her head, still clearly focused on the window. “Why <em>is</em> she here?” she murmured, almost to herself.</p>
<p>“We can send Ruby to her, if you’d like,” Blake offered, but Yang shook her head.</p>
<p>“No.” She finally broke her stare from the window, looking back down at Blake instead. Even in the darkness, Blake could make out the softness of her gaze. “She’s got her reasons, I’m sure, but I’m not going to worry about it. The only one I need right now is you, m’amhrán.”</p>
<p>Blake found Yang’s hand at her side, and gave it a squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere,” she reminded her.</p>
<p>“I know you won’t,” Yang said quietly, leaning against Blake. A moment later, she added, “It <em>is</em> nice to hear the song, though. It’s…”</p>
<p>She paused, like she wasn’t sure what to say.</p>
<p>“Comforting?” Blake suggested. Yang considered, then shook her head.</p>
<p>“Almost, but not quite. I’m not sure if I could call anything about Raven <em>comforting</em>.”</p>
<p>This made Blake chuckle slightly. “Well, as long as it doesn’t bother you. We can always shut the window if we have to so you can nap a little more.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think you’ll need to. Besides, I don’t think I can sleep much more, if the contractions are going to be like <em>that</em>. I think I’d rather walk a bit.”</p>
<p>Heaving a sigh, Yang scooted toward the edge of the bed. Blake rose quickly, ready to help. But before Blake could help her to her feet, Yang grimaced, her cheeks darkening slightly with embarrassed color.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Blake asked. Despite her reassurances to Yang, she was hit with worry once more. But Yang let out an odd, strained giggle.</p>
<p>“It’s nothing,” she said quickly, then paused. “It’s just… I think my water finally broke.”</p>
<p>“<em>Oh</em>,” Blake said, swallowing. “I… guess I should get Ruby and Weiss?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Yang replied, the pitch of her voice betraying her nerves. “Maybe you should.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Raven stood in the barren trees, her masked eyes fixed on the lights of her daughter’s cottage.</p>
<p>Her throat burned, still raw from hours of singing. It had been a long song, going from the early evening until nearly midnight. She’d made sure to drink her throat tincture the minute she’d finished singing, and afterward, had returned to Tai’s camp in order to make herself some tea. He was nowhere in sight, but that was to be expected; he was preparing for the planting of the baby’s heart tree, and only the gods knew how long that would take.</p>
<p><em>Druids</em>. They always loved an excuse for a ceremony, Raven thought with dry fondness.</p>
<p>She took the tea with her as she stood sentinel in the woods near Yang’s cottage. It was late-- past midnight now-- and she was probably foolish to stand in the snow at such a time of night. But the moon hung full overhead, giving the world an ethereal glow. She lifted her mask slightly and took a sip of her now-cool tea, hardly tasting it as she strained her ears.</p>
<p>She could’ve cast a spell for eavesdropping, she supposed. But something seemed so wrong about eavesdropping during such an intimate moment, and though Raven was the kind of person to push through boundaries, this was a line that even she couldn’t bring herself to cross.</p>
<p>However, she didn’t <em>need</em> a spell to hear Yang singing on and off, her voice careening through the open window. It took Raven to a time and place many years ago, when she’d been the one giving birth. She could remember the surge of that powerful song with her whole body after months of near-silence, the desperate need to finally sing for such a momentous change in her life. This was what Yang was feeling now, and even though Raven had already finished her own song, and even though her throat still hurt, she closed her eyes to hum in counterpoint with Yang’s as it hit its peak.</p>
<p>And then, the song stopped.</p>
<p>Raven stood very still, listening for any shred of sound. The wind whistled in the leaves above her, an owl hooted, some critter rustled in the underbrush.</p>
<p>A baby cried.</p>
<p>Raven slumped her shoulders, awash with relief. She hadn’t realized just how afraid she’d been by her own song.</p>
<p>It was in her nature to sing. Usually, banshees sang for death. While many banshees established a connection with the land they lived on, which allowed them to sing for the changes of nature, Raven had spent years as a wandering banshee; it had been over a decade since she’d sung for anything that wasn’t the death of another person. When she’d felt that song in the air, she had feared the worst.</p>
<p>Something could still happen to the baby, she reminded herself, not wanting to get her hopes up. Something could still happen to Yang. She mentally tallied in her head all the things that could still go wrong, each scenario more morbid than the last. It was safer to never surrender her fears, and always hold onto a bit of tension in her heart; that was a lesson she’d learned long ago. If she could brace herself for the worst, then she would never be caught unawares.</p>
<p>But nothing seemed to happen. Someone inside was talking, though beneath the cries of the baby, Raven couldn’t even tell who it was, let alone what they were saying. Still, she didn’t move a muscle, instead humming a spell with her aching vocal chords to keep herself warm amid the cold.</p>
<p>After a while, the door opened, and a figure emerged. Raven recognized Ruby, her long red cloak and patchwork pants easily recognizable under the light of the full moon. She was carrying a basket in front of her, darting to her covered wagon and disappearing into it. When she came back out, she was carrying a bundle of linens. It was hard to see her face in the shadows, but there was a bounce in her step as she zipped back to the cottage, slamming the door shut behind her.</p>
<p>At least she didn’t seem too concerned, Raven thought. If Yang, or the baby, were in any kind of danger, she was sure Ruby wouldn’t act so <em>peppy</em>.</p>
<p>The crying of the baby, too, was reassuring. It had been so <em>long</em> since Raven had heard the squalling of a newborn. In her days as a wanderer, Raven had done her best to avoid people entirely. It hadn’t been completely possible, of course, but she’d made a point to steer clear of families. It had been families that reminded Raven of everything she’d lost; it had been families that reminded her of everything she’d left behind.</p>
<p>She studied the sound, taking it in with cautious curiosity, until someone finally thought to shut the window. Yang had sounded just like this when she’d been born, she remembered, surprised by an onslaught of memories that threatened to break through her own mental dam. She’d been scared then, too, when she’d heard that cry.</p>
<p><em>She’s a banshee,</em> Raven had told Summer and Tai, feeling close to tears while the newborn Yang was screaming in her arms. <em>I can hear it in her voice.</em></p>
<p><em>She’s perfect,</em> Summer had replied. She hadn’t been a banshee, but her soft voice carried a soothing resonance of its own. <em>I can hear that, too.</em></p>
<p>Time seemed to come to a stop. Raven was used to the motionlessness, the stillness, of time; a part of her mind always disengaged when she sang, simply letting the world move on around her. This was no different. She continued to stand, only moving to lift her mask and take more sips of her tea every so often. Her throat still hurt, but she could already feel the banshee-magic flowing through it, repairing the damaged tissue. The next day, she’d feel as good as new, as if she’d never sung at all.</p>
<p>It was a magic that she’d passed onto Yang, and it was a magic that Yang had apparently passed onto this new baby.</p>
<p>A banshee, Raven thought. This baby-- her grandchild-- was a banshee.</p>
<p>The door opened again, and this time, two people stepped out of the house. Ruby again, now accompanied by Weiss Schnee. They chatted quietly to each other, making the familiar trek to the covered wagon. Raven listened, hoping to catch any information about the baby, but couldn’t make any words out.</p>
<p>They gathered up some things from the wagon, then brought it all back toward the house, continuing to talk in excited, hushed voices. There was no alarm in their movements, no urgency. It was then that Raven finally let herself give into a more settled sense of ease; her song had not been about death.</p>
<p>It had to have meant something else.</p>
<p>Though Ruby and Weiss went back inside, the door didn’t stay closed long. Just minutes later, Ruby emerged yet again, this time empty-handed. </p>
<p>She looked around thoughtfully, like she was searching for something. She tilted her head, and absently made a twirling motion with one of her hands. Then she looked up, seemingly distracted by the stars in the sky for a moment. She’d always had a fascination with stars, and Raven found herself looking up at them with her.</p>
<p>When she looked back down, she realized Ruby’s haunting silver eyes were locked on her.</p>
<p>“Shit,” Raven muttered, but she didn’t have time to move or react. Ruby must have cast a sort of quick spell; one minute, she was still at Yang’s door, and the next, she was beside Raven, standing so comfortably that it was like she’d been there all along.</p>
<p>“What’re you doing in the woods, Mam?” Ruby asked quietly, turning back up to the sky.</p>
<p>“Ruby,” Raven said, the word raspy and curt. Since moving back to Patch, Raven saw a lot more of her younger daughter than she had in years. Like her father, Ruby had been surprisingly quick to forgive Raven’s decade of abandonment; she’d sounded entirely too much like Summer when she’d simply said, <em>Life’s too short to hold onto the bad things.</em></p>
<p>“I mean, it <em>is</em> a nice night,” Ruby went on, hands going behind her head and rolling back on her heels. “And Dad says it’s good luck, being born under a full moon.”</p>
<p>“Our tribe always said the opposite,” Raven replied, the smallest, rueful smile betraying her. Good thing she was wearing a mask. “They always said full moons are when things are most likely to go wrong.”</p>
<p>“Well, your tribe was wrong about a lot of things, wasn’t it?”</p>
<p>“I suppose,” Raven said slowly, keeping on her guard. Ruby must have known she’d be out here, and she wasn’t foolish; she probably knew <em>why</em>. She sighed. “So. How’s the baby?”</p>
<p>“Perfectly healthy, and very loud,” Ruby said, beaming. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight as she turned back to face Raven. “You’re a grandma now. You should go in there, and say hi.”</p>
<p>“I’m not going to do that,” Raven replied evenly. “It’s late. Besides…” She shrugged one shoulder. “Yang won’t want to see me right now. She had a long night, and I’ll be the last person she wants to see. She and Blake probably just want to bond with the baby.”</p>
<p>“You always do that,” Ruby chided, her voice soft. “Assume what other people are thinking.”</p>
<p>Raven said nothing. She only let Ruby’s words bounce off her mask, pretending they hadn’t seeped through.</p>
<p>“Yang actually wanted me to tell you,” Ruby went on. She paused, a small smile playing on her lips. “If you wanted to meet the baby, you should do it now. They’re going to try to get some sleep soon.”</p>
<p>“What?” Raven frowned. “She knows I’m here?”</p>
<p>“Well, yeah,” Ruby replied with a laugh. “She heard you singing.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Raven stared back at the house, feeling stupid. “Of course she did. I hope it didn’t bother her.”</p>
<p>“Nah,” Ruby said. “I think she liked being able to hear it, actually. When she wasn’t singing herself, of course.”</p>
<p>“Becoming a parent is one of the biggest changes in life,” Raven admitted, grateful now more than ever that she had her mask on. “I sang when she was born, too, you know. And for you.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t know banshees sang for birth,” Ruby remarked. She cocked her head, in the thoughtful way she always did when confronted with something interesting.</p>
<p>“They don’t,” Raven agreed. Which had been exactly why she’d been afraid of the song she’d just sung. The silence stretched, and Ruby raised a questioning eyebrow. But Raven pushed past it hastily, shaking her head. “Not for other peoples’ children, anyway. Babies are a <em>beginning</em>, and banshees sing for <em>conclusions</em>. But it’s different, when it’s our own lives that are affected. When Yang was born… it was probably the biggest possible conclusion I’d ever experienced. It was the end of my life as it was, and it was something I could never come back from. Something I never <em>would</em> come back from.”</p>
<p><em>Even though I tried</em>, she added to herself. She shrugged, then moved back into safe technicalities.</p>
<p>“But it’s not something you need to sing for other people,” she went on. “Conclusions are always amplified for yourself. And that’s why we sing at the birth of our children, but not for others.”</p>
<p>“I see.” Ruby continued to watch Raven, who pointedly didn’t look back at her. Ruby didn’t need to speak her question aloud for Raven to know what she was asking.</p>
<p>
  <em>If banshees don’t sing for births, then why had she?</em>
</p>
<p>Then, Ruby sighed. “Well, it’s getting late,” she said, yawning dramatically. “But I’ll probably ask more about it in the morning. You know, every time I think I get down to the bottom of banshee lore, you or Yang always end up surprising me!”</p>
<p>“I don’t think we’ll ever really know all the answers,” Raven replied evenly. “All we can do is accept what comes.”</p>
<p>“But not until we’ve wrung out every scrap of information we can!” Ruby swung her arm in front of herself enthusiastically, and Raven let out a huff of amusement. “But…” Ruby added, and finally, Raven looked into her face, surprised that she could’ve forgotten how soft silver could be. “I think you <em>should</em> go in. Even if only for a few minutes.”</p>
<p>“I’ll think about it,” Raven replied, shifting her gaze back to the cottage.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Ruby said. It was another moment before Raven felt the stare finally break, when Ruby lifted a hand to her mouth to cover another yawn. “Just remember… if you do visit, do it sooner rather than later. Yang’s exhausted, and if you end up waiting too long and waking her, Blake will probably throw you out the window or something.”</p>
<p>Raven grunted, but said nothing else. Ruby, used to her abrupt dismissals, took it as a cue to leave. She vanished from her place beside her, reappearing at Yang’s front door and slipping inside.</p>
<p>For a long moment, Raven didn’t move. She only considered, looking back upwards at the canopy of stars.</p>
<p>Yang knew she was here. She had specifically invited Raven <em>in</em>.</p>
<p>It had been months since she’d last visited Yang and Blake’s cottage. While Ruby had been quick to forgive that long decade she’d been gone, and even though Tai had welcomed her back with open arms, she was very aware of how deep Yang’s hurt had run. It had improved, of course, over the years she’d been back, but Raven knew better than to think that their relationship could be fully repaired. There would always be those thin fractures in the wall, ready to crack at a moment’s notice. Their relationship was one of caution, of wariness and tension. It would never be <em>comfortable</em>.</p>
<p>And all of it was still more than what Raven deserved.</p>
<p>She thought about declining-- she knew this wasn’t her place. It would be better to wait until morning, or at least until Tai came back. Maybe even until the heart tree ceremony itself. It was always easier to disappear into the background when there were other people around, and then Raven could just observe without offending anyone with her presence. Things with Yang wouldn’t have to change. She could catch a glimpse of the baby to satisfy her own curiosity, and then she could fade right back into the scenery of Yang’s life. There would be no intrusion, only observation.</p>
<p>Then again… Ruby said Yang had <em>told</em> her she could visit. That she’d <em>liked</em> hearing Raven’s song.</p>
<p>It made her think, that as selfish as Raven felt for her desire to see Yang… she had a feeling that she’d be even more selfish in staying away.</p>
<p>Despite her mask and her long black cloak, Raven still felt so exposed as she stepped out of the woods and into the clearing. The full moon made the snow so bright in the darkness, making Raven feel like a dark splotch of blight as she walked toward the cottage. She was a shadow, and even the sweet moonlight couldn’t roll that darkness back.</p>
<p>Before she could lose her nerve, she rapped at the door.</p>
<p>The door swung open a lot more quickly than Raven had anticipated, like someone had been waiting for her to knock. Her eyebrows shot up at Ruby, who grinned at her.</p>
<p>“Couldn’t resist, huh?” she teased, and Raven could feel her cheeks heat up beneath the mask.</p>
<p>“Ruby said you were out there,” Weiss remarked. She was sitting in the rocking chair by the fire, knitting furiously, not even looking up at Raven. “I’m surprised you actually came.”</p>
<p>“Weiss,” Ruby warned, and Weiss paused in her knitting long enough to hold up a hand. </p>
<p>“No offense,” she added, glancing over unapologetically. Raven shrugged.</p>
<p>“None taken.”</p>
<p>And truly, Raven wasn’t offended. She was used to Weiss’s cool demeanor toward her; a misunderstanding long ago had led to well-earned wariness on Weiss’s part. It was only fair, Raven supposed.</p>
<p>“Shoes off,” Weiss went on, returning to her knitting. “And mask off, too. It’s horrifying to look at.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think the baby cares if Raven’s wearing a mask or not,” Ruby pointed out, sinking down into a chair.</p>
<p>“It’s simple etiquette, Ruby. Not even grandparents are exempt.” Weiss paused, picking up her knitting project. It looked like the beginning of a tiny sweater. “It’s just like how we told Tai that he will <em>not</em> bring those mossy branches in the house.”</p>
<p>“It’s <em>symbolic</em>!” Ruby said, exasperated, waving her arms. “Just like--”</p>
<p>Raven tuned them out as they squabbled, focusing instead on pulling off her boots. She sat down, surprised at how stiff her body was. She <em>had</em> been standing up all night, she realized as she arched her back and felt it <em>pop</em>. She’d really only sat down when she was making tea, and she was feeling it now. She wasn’t as young as she used to be; she’d have to start being more mindful of her body’s limits.</p>
<p>“And your mask,” Weiss reminded her. Raven rolled her eyes, but acquiesced, pulling it off and setting it down beside her.</p>
<p>She always felt a little bit shorter when she took her mask off. She loved any illusion of greater height, and for some reason, the mask gave it to her more than boots ever would. In her days as a wanderer, the mask had been her protection and her savior. She would wear it by day, by night, and even as she sang. Anyone who caught a glimpse of her would make a sign of the devil and flee, never daring to come too close. But without her mask, she was just a normal woman, full of fears and vulnerability.</p>
<p>And here, in Yang and Blake’s little cottage, she felt like she was drowning in them.</p>
<p>“You probably can’t stay <em>too</em> long,” Weiss added as Raven forced herself to stand again, feeling her legs protest the movement. “Yang’s had a long day, and she’ll probably want to sleep soon.”</p>
<p>“Weiss just wants a turn to hold the baby,” Ruby explained, grinning. “She’s just <em>waiting</em> for Yang and Blake to fall asleep so she can hog her!”</p>
<p>“I’ll do no such thing!” Weiss replied hotly, but Raven didn’t even spare a thought for the teasing.</p>
<p><em>Her</em>. The baby was a girl.</p>
<p>“Well, I won’t stay long,” Raven said, fixing Weiss with a dull stare. “I won’t infringe on your baby time.”</p>
<p>“I never said--”</p>
<p>Ruby snorted as Weiss started to stammer, but Raven had already started to cross the room, to the closed door of Yang and Blake’s bedroom. She reached for the door handle, then hesitated.</p>
<p>“You know,” Ruby piped up, suddenly right next to her. She gave Raven a nudge with her elbow. “You won’t know what she’ll say unless you open the door.”</p>
<p>Raven glanced back at her, giving her a ghost of a smile.</p>
<p>“Right.” She reached a hand out, mussed Ruby’s hair to a small squawk of indignation, then knocked on the door.</p>
<p>“Come in,” Blake called from inside. Raven’s eyes flickered back to Ruby one last time, surprisingly encouraged by the thumbs-up she gave her.</p>
<p>Before she could lose her nerve, she pushed the door open.</p>
<p>Yang was always the brightest point in any room, and tonight was no exception. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun, loose strands wisping at her temples. There were dark circles under her eyes, contrasting with the lighter lilac of her irises. She sat up in bed, propped up with several pillows, one hand set on a blanket-covered bundle on her chest. </p>
<p>As always, Blake was beside her, curled up on the bed, leaning against her. She’d cut her hair recently, wearing it in an unbrushed bob. When the door opened, Blake’s ears shut up, alert, her gold eyes fixing on the door. When she saw who it was, she gave Raven a short nod.</p>
<p>“I didn’t think you were gonna show,” Yang remarked, sparing Raven no more than the merest glance before looking back down at the baby on her chest.</p>
<p>Throat dry and still sore, Raven made herself swallow. “I guess I couldn’t resist, in the end,” she replied.</p>
<p>Yang shifted a little where she sat, carefully dislodging the baby. Blake reached over, taking her while Yang adjusted the gown she was wearing. Blake handled the baby with all the awkwardness of a new parent, like she was still figuring out how to get comfortable with handling an infant.</p>
<p>Away from Yang’s warmth, the baby let out a small, unhappy sound, her limbs splaying out as Blake held her closer to compensate for the loss of heat. With one hand, she spread out a small blanket in front of her, straightening it out before finally setting the baby down on top of it. Looking to Yang to make sure it was okay, Raven stepped around the bed to take a proper look at her granddaughter.</p>
<p>Newborns were never very pretty, in Raven’s opinion. They looked so strange, so different from the fully-grown human they’d someday become. She’d seen enough births to know babies heads would be a little misshapen at first, their tiny features wrinkly and strange.</p>
<p>She supposed it had to have been familial bias, then, that Raven didn’t see any of that in this little girl.</p>
<p>“She looks more like you, Blake,” Raven said, noticing two tiny cat ears folded against the baby’s head, sticking out of her dark hair. Blake, still trying to work the baby into a swaddle, only smiled.</p>
<p>“For now, maybe. But she’ll have Yang’s eyes.” Blake glanced dreamily up at Yang. “And her smile.”</p>
<p>Raven raised an eyebrow, though she didn’t ask. She knew Blake saw visions of the future, so she must have seen their child at some point. Raven was surprised to feel something like jealousy; she wanted to see this baby’s future for herself.</p>
<p>And maybe she <em>would</em>, she thought, surprise turning to wonder. She very well <em>could</em> see that future one day, as the baby grew up.</p>
<p>“Her name is Yue,” Yang told her softly.</p>
<p>“Yue,” Raven repeated, testing the name. <em>Yue</em>.</p>
<p>Blake finally finished swaddling, and as Raven looked the baby (<em>Yue</em>) over, she raised an eyebrow. Apparently, Blake was no good at it yet; the blanket was already slipping off Yue’s shoulder, her little arm fighting free of its confines. She reached out a hand, then stopped. “Do you… want me to fix that a bit?”</p>
<p>“You can swaddle?” Blake asked doubtfully. Raven rolled her eyes.</p>
<p>“It’s been a while… but I did raise two kids,” she replied dryly. “It’ll come back to me, I’m sure.”</p>
<p>Blake exchanged a look with Yang, who nodded. Carefully, she held the fussing Yue out to her, and Raven took her. She’d forgotten how small babies were, and how delicate. Yue finally freed her arm, and Raven found herself staring at her perfectly formed fingers with their perfectly formed fingernails. It had been so long since she’d held a baby. </p>
<p>It had been something she never really expected to do again.</p>
<p>“You’ll get the hang of it soon enough,” she said, determined not to get caught up in the moment. She unwrapped Yue, holding her close as she set the blanket back down on the bed. “It just takes some practice, which you’ll do <em>plenty</em> of.”</p>
<p>“Weiss showed us how,” Blake admitted, watching as Raven folded the blanket over Yue. “But doing it on a real baby is a bit… different.”</p>
<p>“As I said…” Raven replied, bobbing her head once. “You’ll get the hang of it.”</p>
<p>She finished tucking the blanket around Yue, who seemed content enough with the more secure wrap. Raven picked her back up, staring for a moment down at her. Yue’s eyes opened, seeming to look right back up at her.</p>
<p>It was hard to look away. Raven tore her eyes from Yue, automatically handing her off back to Blake. But Blake raised an eyebrow and shot a glance at Yang, who smiled crookedly.</p>
<p>“You <em>can </em>hold her, you know,” she said, reaching for a mug on the nightstand. “If you want to, that is.”</p>
<p>“Of course I do,” Raven said defensively. As if to prove her words, she clutched Yue closer, looking back down at her. Her eyes were still open, apparently wide awake. She would have Yang’s eyes, Blake had said. For now, though, they seemed dark blue, framed by fine eyelashes. She tried to picture this little face with violet eyes, already imagining the girl Yue would grow up to be.</p>
<p>Yang chuckled, leaning back against the pillows, balancing her mug carefully in her hand. With Yue safely in Raven’s arms, Blake relaxed, settling in beside Yang once more.</p>
<p>“It’s been a long time,” Raven remarked in a low voice, feeling a pull at one corner of her mouth as a smile started to grow. “Since I’ve held one of these.”</p>
<p>“Is it just like you remember?” Yang asked, taking a sip of her drink.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Tentatively, Raven stroked a finger over Yue’s hair, between the two cat ears. Her hair was so downy, much softer than she remembered. “It is.”</p>
<p>Silence descended, giving Raven another moment to lose herself in the baby. She could almost feel her heart in her throat; when Yang and Ruby had been this size, could Raven have imagined how their futures would look? Would she have known that one day, she would walk away from those tiny souls? She had a feeling that a fact like that would’ve been unfathomable to her as a new mother. Still, it had happened. In the end, she’d walked away from her own daughters.</p>
<p>What would she have told herself then, if she’d known she would abandon her own children?</p>
<p>“Did you come up here with Dad?” Yang asked, stretching back up to set her mug back down.</p>
<p>“What?” Raven asked, tearing herself out of her thoughts.</p>
<p>“I didn’t know you would come,” she said. She slid back to lean against Blake. “Did you come with Dad to help him with the heart tree?”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Raven said. She hesitated. “Well… yes. But I also… wanted to be here.” The half-smile that was threatening to fade felt more strained. “I figured I <em>should</em> be here. And at least be present, if nothing else.”</p>
<p>“You wanted to be here for me,” Yang commented, one eyebrow raising.</p>
<p>Raven wished she was still in her mask; she could feel the heat in her cheeks.</p>
<p>“No,” she replied reflexively, her whole body tensing. Yang’s other shot up to join the first one, and Blake looked like she was trying to hold back a smile, damn her. Raven cleared her throat. “I mean--”</p>
<p>“Birth <em>is</em> a pretty big deal,” Blake said, much too serene. “We definitely wouldn’t think any less of you for wanting to be here.”</p>
<p>“Well, I wasn’t just going to stay in Patch and twiddle my thumbs,” Raven replied, letting herself focus on Yue again. The baby’s mouth stretched with a wide yawn, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m not… heartless, or anything.”</p>
<p>Her words came out feeble-sounding, and she cursed them in her head. <em>Heartless</em>. Of course she was heartless. Only a heartless person could abandon her own children. Only a heartless person could’ve caused as much hurt as she had. Everything she was doing now-- all the reparations she was trying to make-- would only ever be a drop in the bucket compared to leaving the way she had.</p>
<p>“We know you’re not,” Blake said. “Like I said. We don’t think any less of you for coming. If anything, we’d probably think less of you if you stayed behind.”</p>
<p>Raven grunted. Yue didn’t open her eyes back up, happy to go back to sleep. She was warm, and comfortable. Somehow, even in Raven’s arms, Yue must have felt safe.</p>
<p>“Well, I wanted to help Tai, too,” Raven went on, pretending she hadn’t heard Blake’s words. “I don’t know much about finding a sapling to be the heart tree, or much about planting it, but I thought I might be able to help.”</p>
<p>“What <em>is</em> a heart tree?” Blake asked curiously, and Raven was relieved by the change of topic.</p>
<p>“It’s a druidic thing,” Raven said, realizing belatedly that she was swaying slightly where she stood. Instincts had kicked in, and she was rocking Yue much like she’d once rocked Yang and Ruby. “Tai says it’s like… it enhances a baby’s connection to nature? Something about intertwined life forces, or something. I’ve never really understood it.”</p>
<p>“Both Ruby and I have one,” Yang added. “And I can’t really compare it to anything, but we both have pretty strong connections to nature.”</p>
<p>“Summer had one, too. Here in the valley,” Raven said somberly. Summer was originally from White Fang, and in Raven’s opinion, the whole valley still felt thick with her essence. Blake nodded, expression turning solemn.</p>
<p>“Yang’s taken me there before,” she replied. “It must’ve been beautiful in its day.”</p>
<p>“It was.” Raven closed her eyes for a second. Summer’s heart tree had been a willow, tucked away in a quiet glade not far from the cottage. It was dead now, of course; only a skeleton remained, somehow lingering long after Summer herself had died. Raven visited it from time to time, even during her exile, hoping it offered solace. </p>
<p>It never did, but it didn’t stop her from visiting.</p>
<p>“Yue’s will go there, too,” Yang said, her smile sad. “It’s a good place for a sapling.”</p>
<p>Raven opened her eyes, and nodded slowly. “I think… Summer would like that. Very much.”</p>
<p>Yang was still smiling as Raven met her eyes, and a tentative smile found its way back to Raven’s face. It was a strange, unfamiliar sense of connection. It hit Raven, then, what was so odd about it:</p>
<p>She couldn’t remember the last time Yang had truly <em>smiled</em> at her.</p>
<p>Raven swallowed hard, and looked back down at Yue, finding reassurance in her peaceful face. It was too much, seeing Yang looking at her like that. It had been unnerving. Raven knew how to fight back. She even knew how to run away. But, gods, she didn’t know what to do when Yang <em>smiled</em>.</p>
<p>“We heard you singing,” Yang said. Raven grimaced.</p>
<p>“I guess it would’ve been hard to miss,” she replied dryly.</p>
<p>“I know you said that <em>I’d</em> probably sing during the birth… but I didn’t know <em>you</em> would.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t for the birth,” Raven said firmly, still not taking her eyes off Yue. “There was probably a death in the valley, or something.”</p>
<p>“There wasn’t a death in the valley,” Yang replied, just as certain. “I would’ve felt it if there was. I might not have sung for it, but I would’ve <em>known</em>.”</p>
<p>Raven braced herself, then lifted her head back up. Yang was sitting up a little straighter now, though Blake was rubbing her shoulder.</p>
<p>“What did you sing for, Raven?” she asked softly. There was nothing accusatory in her question; it was simple curiosity. Still, the question made Raven stiffen.</p>
<p>“I… don’t know,” she said at last. She felt Yue squirm a little against the confines of her blanket, and Raven shifted her into her other arm. The movement loosened the blanket slightly, and when the little hand poked out of the blanket, Raven couldn’t resist. She smiled again, reaching a finger toward her palm.</p>
<p>Instinctively, Yue gripped her finger, squeezing it tightly without even opening her eyes.</p>
<p>“It looks like you love her already,” Blake remarked.</p>
<p>Raven looked up sharply, frowning. “Everyone’s supposed to love babies, aren’t they?” she asked cooly. Yang let out a small huff, amused.</p>
<p>“Of course,” she replied, though she sounded too much like she was humoring Raven to be serious. Raven glowered at her, but Yang didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she went on. “What do you want to do, Raven?”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Raven asked, eyes narrowed.</p>
<p>“With Yue. With us.” Yang made a wide gesture with one hand. “Are you… going to want to be in her life?”</p>
<p>“I…” Raven froze. The question sent her mind spiralling backward, gearing for conflict, the instinct for flight flashing into her blood. But Yang’s question hadn’t been aggressive. If anything, it had been carefully neutral. She swallowed, and forced herself to respond. “Why?”</p>
<p>“Because you’re her grandmother, maybe?” Yang asked, a ghost of a smile fleeting across her face once more. “Because you love her?”</p>
<p>Raven bristled, but didn’t argue the point. She <em>couldn’t</em> argue it without lying.</p>
<p>“But... it’ll be your call to make,” Yang added, taking on a more businesslike tone. “I don’t really know what you want anymore. How involved you want to be. With any of us, I mean. And now that we have Yue… Well, I don’t want to force you into anything if you don’t want to be.”</p>
<p>“You’re not forcing me into anything,” Raven said with a frown. “I don’t do anything if I don’t want to do it.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Yang sighed. “I know.”</p>
<p>For a moment, neither of them said anything. Raven was beginning to get sick of these awkward silences. She wagged the finger Yue was still clutching, then decided to bite the bullet.</p>
<p>“What… do <em>you</em> want me to be?” she asked, wanting to cringe at her own uncertainty. “How much… do you <em>want</em> me to be in her life?”</p>
<p>“We’re not playing that game. This is <em>your</em> call.”</p>
<p>“Well, what am I supposed to say?” If Raven’s finger hadn’t been stuck in Yue’s hand, she would have made an exasperated gesture. All she could do now was scowl, and maybe it was her own frustration that made her say what she said next. “For all I know, you don’t want me to have anything to do with the baby!”</p>
<p>“<em>Oh</em>.” Yang blinked, like this was an angle she’d never even considered. She looked <em>surprised</em> by Raven’s words. Even Blake’s brows were furrowed. “Is… that what you’ve been worried about?” Yang asked, her tone so strangely gentle that it made Raven’s hackles rise.</p>
<p>“No,” she snapped. “I wasn’t <em>worried</em>.”</p>
<p>“You are, though,” Blake said softly. Her ears twitched. “And not just about Yue.”</p>
<p>“I-- I’m not <em>worried</em>,” Raven insisted, wishing she hadn’t stammered, wishing her voice didn’t crack on that last word. She kept her eyes on Yue. It was safer, to look at the baby, than at the daughter she’d hurt. “I’m just not going to <em>presume</em> anything.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need to,” Yang replied. “We’re not going to keep Yue from you, Raven.”</p>
<p>Raven’s jaw clenched, but she couldn’t think of a response. She couldn’t even <em>acknowledge</em> what Yang was saying. For better or worse, Yang continued.</p>
<p>“I don’t know if you want, like… to not see her much, or only see her once in a while, or even be a real grandmother to her…” she said haltingly, sounding as much uncertain as Raven felt. “But… we <em>would</em> like you to be in her life. And… be a family. As much of one as we can be, anyway.”</p>
<p>She said the last bit sheepishly, with a small, nervous laugh. Maybe it was just the rush of hormones that was making her say that, Raven thought. They could be nothing more than the emotional, weepy ramblings that postpartum women often had.</p>
<p>Then again, maybe not. Yang didn’t sound overly-emotional, or upset; she sounded level-headed, like the words she’d said were something that she’d thought about and planned for. And if that were so…</p>
<p>“Yue,” Raven murmured, buying herself time to think. Yue slept on, but with each passing second, Raven was aware of the increasing ache in her own chest.</p>
<p>Nothing <em>had</em> to change, she knew. She could live out her life as it was now, in quiet isolation with Tai. Simply living with him again felt better than she deserved, and expecting anything further than that was wishing on wisps of smoke. She would never need to take any greater risk than that.</p>
<p>She didn’t <em>have</em> to be a part of her granddaughter’s life.</p>
<p>But looking at the baby’s peaceful, sleeping face, Raven could feel the decision in her heart, in her very soul. She’d already left once. She’d made her mistakes, and had paid the price for them. She’d learned. This was a crossroads, and without even consciously knowing, she’d made a choice.</p>
<p>“Yue,” she repeated. And then her eyes widened.</p>
<p>She finally understood what her song had meant.</p>
<p>It was in a banshee’s nature to sing for death. This was something Raven had spent her whole life knowing, and clinging to. She was a herald of death, of endings and conclusions. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sung for something that <em>wasn’t</em> death. She’d taken it for granted that sometimes, endings were <em>good</em>. That songs could be <em>happy</em>.</p>
<p><em>Banshees sing for change,</em> Blake had once told her. It was one thing to know it, but quite another thing to <em>feel</em> it. Maybe it was finally time for Raven to stop being so scared. Maybe it was finally time to be a true part of her family again.</p>
<p>Maybe… it was finally time to embrace <em>change</em>.</p>
<p>She felt a lump swell in her throat, and she turned away from Yang and Blake. As she rocked Yue, Raven’s eyes stung. She wasn’t a crier by any means, but she felt the burn of tears threatening release. If only her hair wasn’t pulled back by her bandana; she could’ve used her hair as a curtain to shield her face when her mask could not. All she could do was duck her head, shaking it slowly as her vision blurred with those tears.</p>
<p>She hadn’t sung for death at all.</p>
<p>“I sang for you,” she said quietly to Yue, her voice breaking. She tried to smile at the baby, mentally cursing as a fat tear fell, dropping onto the hand that Yue’s finger gripped. Of course, Yue said nothing. There were the soft, quick breaths she made, not even seeming to notice that Raven’s rocking had changed, turning into shudders instead.</p>
<p>She didn’t dare look back at Blake or Yang. All she could do was stare, detached, as a second tear fell onto Yue’s blanket, and then another. She hadn’t thought she was even capable of tears anymore, yet here they were, uncontrolled.</p>
<p>There was a light pressure at her back; a quick glance told her it was Blake, her touch reassuring.</p>
<p>“I’m good,” Raven said thickly, clearing her throat.</p>
<p>Carefully, she used her thumb to pry open Yue’s tiny fingers, and hurriedly brushed her tears away. She sniffed, hoping she could play it off, and then finally looked over at Yang. She’d pushed herself up, looking as if she was about to climb out of bed and come over herself.</p>
<p>“Wait,” Raven said, automatically holding up her now-freed hand. “Don’t get up on my account.”</p>
<p>“I’m still perfectly capable of walking,” Yang pointed out.</p>
<p>“You are, but I can’t imagine you’ll enjoy it very much.” Without thinking about what she was doing, she gave Blake’s arm an absent pat as she finally turned to face Yang again. She only hoped her face wasn’t blotchy.</p>
<p>“True,” Yang said, sighing, leaning back against her pillows. “I’m still kind of… sore.”</p>
<p>Raven was relieved at this shift of conversation-- as unlikely as it was that her display of emotion had gone unnoticed, if the conversation could move on, she could hold onto the illusion that nobody had seen it.</p>
<p>“You’re allowed to be a little <em>sore</em>,” Raven replied, clearing her throat again. Emotions and a sore throat weren’t a good combination. “You just gave birth, after all. Although…” She nodded at Blake, who was sitting back down beside Yang. “In some ways, I think <em>watching </em>your love give birth is worse than going through it yourself.”</p>
<p>This made Blake smile weakly and Yang snort.</p>
<p>“At least, that’s how it felt for me, when it was Summer,” Raven went on. She hesitated, then stepped toward Yang’s side of the bed. “Seeing her in pain, and not being able to do anything… I’ve never liked helplessness.” She shook her head. “I have no idea how Tai did it <em>twice</em>.”</p>
<p>“It was rough to watch,” Blake agreed softly, still smiling. “But I definitely got off easy this time around.”</p>
<p>“You’re telling me,” Yang muttered.</p>
<p>Raven approached her, rocking Yue with slow, rhythmic bobs. Yang reached her hands up, looking eager as she gazed upon her sleeping daughter. Raven was surprised by her own regret as she passed Yue back into Yang’s arms. </p>
<p>She could have easily held Yue for hours, she realized. She <em>would</em> have, if Yang hadn’t taken her back.</p>
<p><em>I sang for you</em>, she thought achingly. Gods, when had been the last time a song had been a source of joy, or love?</p>
<p>What would it be like, to finally let that feeling flourish?</p>
<p>Looking to Yang to make sure she wasn’t overstepping, Raven sat at the edge of the bed beside her. Blake scooted closer to Yang, and for a moment, all three of them were united in watching Yue sleep.</p>
<p>“I…” Raven began, then stopped. Yang and Blake both looked back up at her. Fortunately, they didn’t rush her as Raven struggled to find the words she wanted to say, and fight back another odd surge of tears. This time, she managed to hold them back. “I’ll… stay.”</p>
<p>“You’ll stay?” Yang asked quietly.</p>
<p>“I’ll stay,” Raven repeated. She paused. “In Yue’s life.” Another pause. “And in yours. If… if you want me to.”</p>
<p>Yang shifted Yue into one arm, then reached out her hand. For a second, it just hovered over Raven’s, wavering. Then, she finally set it down. Yang’s hand was warm, and though the skin was rough from farm life, it was still so smooth and young compared to Raven’s own.</p>
<p>It made her feel so old.</p>
<p>“I said I want you to be a part of our lives,” Yang murmured. “And I meant that.”</p>
<p>She squeezed Raven’s hand, and if she noticed how sweaty Raven’s palm was, she didn’t comment on it.</p>
<p>“How?” Raven asked shakily. “After… everything?”</p>
<p>“Well… you did come back in the end, right?” Yang said. “I think, now… we can be better, and look to the future. The best possible future we could have. All of us.”</p>
<p>“And be as much of a family as we can be, right?” Raven said, letting out a strained laugh. Yang’s thumb ran across Raven’s fingers.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she said. “And we will be.”</p>
<p>“You know, from what I’ve seen…” Blake added, smiling in that mysterious way she sometimes did. “It <em>will</em> be the best possible future.”</p>
<p>“And from what <em>I’ve</em> seen…” Raven said, acutely aware of the flutter in her heart as she looked down at Yue, “it already is.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>It was a perfect day for the heart tree ceremony.</p>
<p>Tai had settled on a small birch sapling for Yue. He’d found it somewhere in the woods of Cnoc na Bumbóg, and claimed that it had the <em>right energies</em>, or something. As everyone gathered, he  excitedly rattled off the properties of birch and what it might mean for Yue’s life.</p>
<p>Raven didn’t know much about the meaning of trees, or even much about the heart tree ceremony itself. She’d only ever attended Yang’s, and then Ruby’s, and those had been nearly thirty years ago. (Gods, the passage of time made Raven want to shudder.) But she trusted Tai’s judgement of tree saplings; if his choices for Yang and Ruby’s trees were anything to go by, he knew what he was doing.</p>
<p>It felt like there were so many people in the little glade. Besides Tai and herself, there was Blake and Yang, who’d brought Yue. Ruby and Weiss were there, too, as well as Blake’s parents. Even Qrow had shown up, keeping to the shadows at the treeline. Her brother would be as uncomfortable around a group like this as she was; neither of them had truly outgrown their instincts to isolate.</p>
<p>But Raven was doing better. She <em>would</em> do better.</p>
<p>“I think that’s everyone,” Tai said, surveying the small crowd, his blue eyes twinkling. “It’s wonderful, seeing the whole family together again.”</p>
<p><em>The whole family.</em> Automatically, Raven looked up, and she wasn’t the only one. Qrow did, too, as did Ruby, Yang, and even Blake.</p>
<p>Summer’s willow was still here, its wood long dead and looking like a ghost among the living trees.</p>
<p>In a way, she was here, too, her tree lingering to stand watch over Yue’s sapling.</p>
<p>“And today… our family welcomes a new life,” he went on. His eyes crinkled as his smile widened, gazing at the baby Yang held. He’d met Yue for the first time that morning, and he’d been immediately smitten. Seeing his joy for his grandchild made Raven’s heart ache with love for him. When she’d come back to him after their years apart, she’d considered it a miracle that their love, their grá síoraí, hadn’t faded.</p>
<p>Then again, maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised; Tai’s love had always been a force to be reckoned with, and her connection to him burned in her soul. And seeing it now, worn so plainly on his face, made Raven feel full.</p>
<p>“Since it’s cold out, we’ll keep this short today,” he said, chuckling a little. “So, Yang, Blake?”</p>
<p>Raven watched as Yang and Blake exchanged a small smile, then approached Tai and the birch sapling. He’d cleared out a small area of snow in order to plant it, using a bit of magic to dig the hole itself. His druidry would give the tree a boost of invigoration, too, which would allow the tree to thrive as it adjusted to its new home.</p>
<p>True to his word, Tai didn’t draw out the ceremony any longer than necessary. This part was mostly for show, anyway, when he rubbed soil from the hole into Yue’s palms. He’d used magic to keep it warm, so Yue didn’t so much as cry at the process. It was easy and painless, her fingers reflexively grasping the dirt like she could already sense her connection to the earth and her tree.</p>
<p>“May her roots run deep and hold her fast,” Tai said as Yue started to squirm. “But may her soul touch the sky and rise among the stars.”</p>
<p>Blake bounced Yue, looking a little more comfortable now with her than she had the night before. Both she and Yang were adjusting beautifully to their new reality.</p>
<p>And it was a reality that Raven would be a part of.</p>
<p>Sensing Raven’s stare, Yang looked up briefly from Yue, locking eyes with her. Then, Yang smiled.</p>
<p>Slowly, Raven smiled back.</p>
<p>She could already imagine the future. She would visit often, and Yue would grow up knowing who Raven was. She'd tell Yue stories of Yang's childhood in Patch, about all the trouble her mother and aunt had gotten up to. She'd tell her about the adventures she'd had as a wanderer, but also how being with her family again was more rewarding than all of them. She'd bring Yue to the glade where her heart tree was, and sit together at the base of Summer's willow for as long as it still stood. She'd tell Yue all about Summer, about how her grandparents met, and the love that still burned on even when Summer no longer walked this earth. </p>
<p><em>I sang for you,</em> she'd tell Yue one day. And maybe she'd understand the implication of those words, and maybe she wouldn't. But Raven would know; she would remember.</p>
<p>She closed her eyes, imagining that future, that potential. She could feel it as a song in the air, closing in all around her, enveloping her.</p>
<p>This was a song Raven would never take for granted.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you Aziminil for beta-reading and Kaia for the moral support/helping me come up with a title!! I needed it, lololol.</p>
<p>Also, if you're the kind of asshole who drops into comments to say things like "BLAKE AND YANG CAN'T HAVE A BABY!!!", kindly go to hell. I just won't respond... or maybe I'll set the dogs on you.</p>
<p>Follow me:<br/>Tumblr: <a href="https://pugoata.tumblr.com/">@pugoata</a><br/>Twitter:<a href="https://twitter.com/pugoata">@pugoata</a><br/>Playlist: <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7vnoDp8RatmT4dYyfWWmJJ?si=be8heuUUQLSPNc1iBUCADg">On Spotify!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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